Kings Park and Botanic Garden holds a special place in the hearts and minds of its millions of visitors and is the stage for many important events, milestones and celebrations.
To highlight the social importance of this unique park, we invite all visitors and members of the community to contribute to the social history project 'Kings Park at Heart'.
Share your stories, personal anecdotes, artworks and photographs with us and help preserve the memories of Kings Park and Botanic Garden.
Since the initiative began in 2009, Kings Park has collected an array of stories full of fun, love, tragedy, dedication, humour and more. A selection of these have been showcased in outdoor exhibitions for the Kings Park Festival and featured in the Friends of Kings Park magazine, 'For People and Plants'.
Make a contribution
Contributions can be sent via the Customer Service Officer. Please provide your name, postal address, phone number and email and outline your story/theme in detail.
'During the early 1960s I did a detailed botanical study of the native and introduced flora of Kings Park. In those days nothing was labelled. I write to congratulate you on the fine labelling in the botanical gardens and the introduction of native species from other parts of the state. It is just wonderful and you and your staff are doing a very important job, not only for the present generation, but also to future generations... to see much of our unique native flora so close to Perth is a credit to you all.' - Jan Richards
'May I say that the Authority must be congratulated on the exceptional work that they have done. It was one of the more wonderful experiences that I have had this year. The landscaping, gardens, flora and fauna set the scene for one of the more fantastic experiences one can have in our fair city of Perth.' - Steve Catania
Memories and anecdotes
'Kings Park was my back garden between the ages of 8-11. Between Kings Park, QEII site, and Karrakatta Cemetry, we had bush and then the river almost all around us. We would get lost in the park for hours on end, walk home from the city through the park, collect specimens, ride our bikes and drink in nature’s offerings. We climbed Mt Eliza and roamed through Hackett’s paths getting scratched by the agave and prickly native bushes while revelling in the views over the river.' - Philip G
'Kings Park was always a special place growing up in Perth. Playing in the wading pools, the playgrounds and hopping from one tree stump to the next, I was often visiting with my nature-loving grandmother. In my 20s, I was studying urban birds and first walked the historic Serventy transect with Prof. Harry Recher. A flock of Rainbow Bee-eaters descended around us in a cacophony of sound to feed on the flowering Banksias. I felt such a great sense of peace, I couldn’t wait to tell my grandmother about it. As I returned home, I discovered that she’d passed away at the exact moment we were recording the bee-eaters. Now approaching 40, I have worked in Kings Park for over 17 years. On the days I manage to sit and reflect, I can still enjoy that special sense of peace that only the bushland can provide and know she would have been proud of the person I’ve become.' - Jodi
Poems and songs
My Place - Danelle Jenkins
No matter where I've gone;
No matter where I've run;
My Place has waited.
Custodian of my city,
My Place calms the bustle, and quiets the concrete.
When I enter My Place I feel welcome and comfort.
When I run in My Place I feel solitude, and my soul is soothed.
When I run in My Place,
And feel my city beside me,
my Kings Park,
Place of Reflection - Gary Colombo De Piazzi
The concrete path with its hard rim
channels each step.
The long edge, leading away
with a serpentine flow.
The grevillea alongside beats
a barrage of green shiver slender foliage
in a dance choreographed by the breeze.
A subtle bow with each leaf
a curtsey of emerald.
The soft/smooth, rigid/spiked
and the broad elliptical build
jade on olive, fade to silver and fawn.
Stepping onto the river gravel crunch
sound becomes the new medium,
the cross between the constant city clash
and the call of wattle bird, wren and crow
as shades of green bend a barrier.
In the wind rustle
there is a hint of something sweet
latched to memories
of boiled lollies and candy sticks
from grandma's pocket.